


Chain

by PaisleyWraith



Series: Paisley's Kyley-B [3]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15399231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaisleyWraith/pseuds/PaisleyWraith
Summary: Written for K2 week 2018, Mysterion is approached by a fratboy-looking brat looking to influence the city's superheroes. While arrogant and brash, the kid has an interesting origin story and a fascinating offer. The vigilante might have to take him up on this just for curiosity's sake.





	1. Playing

Mysterion spit blood onto the concrete, staggering backwards until his back hit against the wall. His breaths came heavy and quick, chest heaving as he gulped down air.

Roars of cars a few streets down were nearly the only sound, the alley eerily quiet after the fight.

There were men scattered around the ground and he’d have to dig a bullet out of his arm later, but he’d gotten ahead this time. Another attempt in shutting down the entire operation. In this area of the city, anyhow. 

He was losing coherency. Mysterion's heart was pounding in his chest as he tried to deepen his breaths. He was too young to struggle this much, but he'd been ambushed like a fucking moron and he was paying dearly for the misstep. He'd have to come back twice as rough if he was going to keep his reputation.

Gangs like this were impossible to fully eradicate, no one knew that more than he did. But if any dent could be made in all of this, he’d keep fighting. Someone had to dissuade them from just carrying out some of this horrific shit whenever they wanted. Someone had to keep them looking over their shoulders. He had to keep them looking over their shoulders. He had no choice. 

The light above the back of the restaurant flickered, illuminating the vigilante for a split second before fluttering back out. He gave it a quick look, but as no one walked through the back door he continued to recover from the fight. 

Mysterion operated on fear. He had to be back out tomorrow night, leaving only a few hours to sleep. Someone was moving merchandise to the waterfront tomorrow night and Mysterion had to be there. To whatever end. 

Right now, he had to get this bullet out of his arm. The pain burned so intently it pulsated with his heartbeat, and his left eye was swelling, a coolness pooling under the skin. 

At least he had the information now.

Mysterion pushed himself away from the wall, blood still trailing down the back of his mouth down his throat, making him nauseous. He definitely needed to clean up and take a nap. 

“Hey,” A heavily-accented voice spoke harshly, snapping in the soft murmur of city life. 

Mysterion had missed one, a tall white boy with a sleeveless shirt, a gold necklace, and carefully-styled red hair. His arms were crossed and his feet were shoulder width. 

Mysterion froze, looking him over. He was definitely the type to carry a weapon, even if he hadn't made a move for it yet. He was waiting. A chatty one, perhaps. Fine. He could see if he could scare some information from him.

He strode forward for about three paces, but the boy didn’t do anything more than smile. 

“Hey, babes, hold on,” The redhead was saying, not moving an inch. “I’m a passerby.” 

Sure. He knew when someone had alternative motives. Mysterion did not slow his pace, and stopped suddenly when he was within arm’s length, so sharply that his cloak snapped around his frame before fluttering back into place. 

The two of them stared at each other, Mysterion stoic and silent, the boy smirking and smug. 

“Don’t start something,” The boy said, eyes flitting over Mysterion’s form. “We're going to talk.” 

Goddammit, why did he have to word it like a demand? He wasn't in the mood for this.

The vigilante grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him against the alley wall, and the kid braced his foot against his side like he was preparing to kick him away. 

He kept the boy pinned and the kid didn’t shove him away from his body. Darkish eyes narrowed in the alleyway light, anger rippling through his expression. 

“I’m here for help,” The gold glittered around his neck as he shifted. “So don’t fucking try, you’re not fucking scary.” 

Well that was just a challenge. Mysterion hit his chest hard with the length of his arm, further trapping him against the wall.

The kid caught him, kicking him sideways in the knee and making his leg buckle. He fell on one knee, loosening his grip, and the redhead grabbed his bad arm and held it outwards, leaving Mysterion open to any attack. Vulnerable. 

The kid didn’t make a move, instead bracing on foot on his hip and the other keeping his arm outstretched, Mysterion gritting his teeth against the pain. He hadn’t realized the bone was broken, too. His arm was definitely broken. 

“Believe it or not, babes, I’m actually your friend.” The boy’s accent was definitely American, but some region he’d certainly never visited. He glared up at him, fingers twitching involuntarily from pain. “I shouldn’t be able to do this. I shouldn’t be able to knock you off your feet so easy.” 

“Your point?” Mysterion grit, growling up at him. 

“You’re not who you used to be, and you know it.” The kid let him go, Mysterion stumbling before smoothly rising to his feet, a little too late to play it off well. “You’re not making a dent in any of this shit anymore. You’re just playing around in the city now, trying to keep people scared of you in order to keep them in check.” 

That still wasn’t getting to the point. But the kid was leaning against the wall, crossing his arms again. 

“I’ve been following your cases for years,” The guy said. “Call me Kyley-B. You’ve done a lot for this shithole of a city.” 

Interesting. A weird name and an odd, almost flattering way to address him after all that.

“Are you complimenting me or insulting me?” Mysterion asked smoothly, arm burning with pain. He needed to stay cool, keep this fucking asshole from thinking he was causing him any kind of hurt. “Pick one.” 

“Nah, I’d rather be real with you, sugar.” Kyley rubbed his golden chain through his fingers. “Tell me honestly. Should you be struggling this much to take out six guys?” He nodded towards the men on the ground. 

“Point. Now.” Mysterion was done being led in circles. He didn't deal with flowery words.

“I’m here to help you,” Kyley said simply. 

“Don’t need it,” Mysterion said, shutting him down there. This was not a situation he wanted a part of. He whipped away, gritting his teeth against the pain the motion caused. He’d have to reset himself once he got home. 

“Don’t you?” The kid called after him. “Because I don't think you understand."

Mysterion said nothing, silence falling around the two in the chilled darkness. Kyley continued.

"I don’t want anything from you in return. I don’t want to see you killed. You don’t deserve that.”

Now that almost sounded earnest. Mysterion turned, slightly. Kyley merely raised an eyebrow. 

“These fuckboys, they’re part of that ring that killed the girl from the eastern part of the city, right?” He asked him, smug face softening around the lips. “You’re still at it, trying to kick down people who go too far.” 

He said nothing in reply, knowing a lack of protest would probably be encouragement enough.

Kyley was undaunted, continuing. “But you’re outdated now, Mysterion. It’s a second dawn for heroes and villains. You can’t spend your days playing cops and robbers in the city anymore.” 

Mysterion had no one who knew what he did and who he was after. This was kind of interesting. “And you guessed this how?” He asked, taking another close look at the kid.

“Told you, I’ve been a fan for a while.” Kyley tilted his head, neat curls beginning to fall into his eyes. “A long while. I was fourteen, and I think you were probably a kid, too.” 

He’d started this at age fourteen, a stupid child with a curse, trying to make a difference. A malnourished, tired, touch-starved baby, falling every other night with his guts in his hands. Mysterion exhaled, finally turning around fully. 

“And what are you going to do?” He asked, more flat than threatening. If this was just some kind of hero-worshipping frat boy, he could handle that. “Somehow I’ve made it over a decade without your help. If you know who I am, you know that I can.” 

"Resources." Kyley said simply. "You need someone who knows more about what's going on than you seem to. You've stumbled too many times this year. I want to help you take these motherfuckers down."

"Sounds like you want to play, yourself," The vigilante replied, watching the men he'd taken down earlier shift. They needed to leave the area. Now.

"Maybe," Kyley replied. "Good thing for you is I play to win."

Kyley held out a paper. Mysterion looked at him, grudgingly taking it with his good hand. A name, a phone number, an address. 

“Contact me however you want,” Kyley said easily. “When you’re done playing. Whenever you need help, whatever it is you need help with."

Mysterion tucked the paper into his belt and said nothing. Waited. The men around them were starting to stir again, they’d either get up or the police would be on them and he’d have to go. 

“Don’t forget what I told you, babes,” Kyley said, stepping back towards the main street. “You don’t deserve the end you’re rushing towards. If you change your mind, I’m easy to track down.” 

The vigilante whirled impressively, cape sweeping the width of the alleyway as he finally started walking home. 

The paper crinkled, the only source of noise around the being.

\--

It wasn't until his body was refreshed and clean that he took another look at the paper. Sprawled on his bed in pajamas, Kenny held up the paper, ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead.

'Kyley' had written his name as 'Kyle Broflovski' here, which sounded foreign but the kid clearly had an accent from somewhere in the country. The address was...

Kenny rolled onto his stomach to type it into his laptop. He knew the city fairly well by now, and found his suspicions were correct: This was a house in the nice part of town. Not just the nice part, Kenny's apartment was in a decent area, this was like celebrities and the rich fuckers area. This was a 'stupid money' neighborhood.

So...what, did that mean this was some rich boy out spending mommy and daddy's money, trying to get his hands into the world of superheroes? Kenny had his hoodie string between his teeth, thoughtfully chewing on it. That wasn't exactly unheard of, particularly nowadays when most of the time heroes were in it for the publicity. Treated like celebrities.

Kenny hated that. He hated the blind hero worship that people offered to individuals who didn't even really care if someone lived or died. They didn't deserve it. And here he went around, struggling as always, trying to track down actual people who did harm before they hurt anyone else. He actually did shit about it. And resented the fact the recognition went to the people who didn't care.

So what, did that mean he wanted recognition or not? Kenny wasn't even sure of himself. He ignored any call of heroism just like he ignored the claims that he was secretly a supervillain. This was by choice. He had no reason to want any publicity.

Kenny typed in the kid's name in next, and the first result made him freeze.

Well.

Kenny sat up, pulling the string from his mouth. He clicked on the link to take him to the article. He skimmed it, going back over to read it in depth. This was...bizarre. The kid might be after him after all, but if so, this was kind of exciting. He hadn't dealt with anything like this for a few years.

Alright. He was intrigued.

Kenny slapped his laptop screen down, hopping off the bed to pad over to the uniform he was stitching up. He slipped the note back into his belt. Fine. He'd play along for a second. Long enough to find out his motives, anyhow.

If he wanted to play a game, at least it was shaping up to be a fun one.


	2. Rebel

Mysterion did not have any dealings in this area of the city. If he ever reached higher up the ladder of baddies, sure, he assumed a good deal of these people might have their hands in blood money. But this gated community, swimming pools in the back, brick and stone houses with four car garages, this was not a place he normally went poking around in. 

He crept along the back of the lots, wary of the fact there were probably stupid amounts of burglar alarms everywhere. This was so stupid. He was Mysterion, taking a merry walk through a high-end subdivision in full getup. This was the dumbest thing he’d ever done. 

It was late. No one was sitting in high-priced ugly-ass furniture on their back patios, no one was splashing in the pools, no children screaming in the yards or freshly-groomed poodles trotting around. 

He was realizing that he had a very specific idea of how these people lived. 

Kyley’s house was not the biggest one in the neighborhood, but it was fairly isolated. There were about three house widths between him and a neighbor, a short fence around the yard. He had landscaping, the odd-looking house modern and cut, mostly concrete and two levels, the garage door made of metal and the back door mostly glass. 

Mysterion crouched in someone’s random yard, giving a side-eye to the ceramic wildlife fucking covering the overgrown and dead garden. 

He was absurdly up a tree, unable to peer over the privacy fence by standing by stone and bejeweled frogs. 

Mysterion was sitting in a tree, staring at someone’s house from a neighboring yard. This was, without a doubt, the dumbest thing he’d ever done. He’d gone alone to the meeting place of a well known gang at age sixteen, broken his neck from misjudging a dive into water, taken his mask off within the line of sight of a supervillain, and this he felt dumbest about. Watching someone from a neighboring tree like a cartoon stalker. 

The kid was sitting outside his house, on his computer by the pool. He wasn’t about to hop over the fence without knowing what he was getting into. He didn’t see anything he should be wary of, but knowing who he was now, Mysterion was approaching this with caution. Hence the stupid fucking tree. 

It was dark enough that Mysterion could probably slip in without him seeing how dumb the vigilante looked leaping over a fence. 

He wrapped his cloak around his left arm, jumping down from the tree to crouch in the grass. He moved swiftly, taking a running leap and hoisting himself over the fence. 

He dropped onto the other side, almost sitting on the ground he got so low. Nothing happened, no triggering alarms or security measures, and the kid looked like he was typing away still, oblivious to the new figure. Mysterion wasn’t sure if that were true, but they were simply a swimming pool away now. 

He stood, finally, surveillance over. He was committed to this now. Whatever this kid wanted, he would get his curiosity satisfied. 

Mysterion walked to the edge of the pool, making sure he stood in plain sight. Let the boy notice him rather than walk up to him. And he did, eyes flitting upward and him freezing as he noticed the newcomer. 

Kyley-B stared at him, illuminated in blue from the pool and soft orange outlining him from the house behind. He slowly closed his laptop, not breaking eye contact. 

Mysterion was not going to speak first. He’d have to greet him. 

“Mysterion,” The kid said, leaving the laptop on his lap as he watched the figure. 

“Kyley,” The vigilante’s voice was rough, low, a threatening edge to it. He walked around the pool, slowly, cape swishing with every step. 

The boy didn’t get up, though he set the computer on a side-table, one with a remote and a cold glass on the top, with a backpack leaning against the legs. 

The kid was tugging his necklace between his fingers again, careful green eyes watching the vigilante approach. Mysterion made sure to only come within about ten feet of the brat, giving himself enough room to defend or attack. The kid was fast, he’d found that out earlier. He just needed to be close enough to toss something at Kyley from this distance. 

The bundle of papers flew apart at his feet, beginning to flutter over the tile and escape. Kyley stepped on a page, getting up to retrieve the printed news articles Kenny had taken time to look up. 

The boy set his jaw, only looking at the first one before his eyes flit up, defiant. 

“Yes, that’s my mother, what’s it to you?” Kyley challenged. “That’s got nothing to do with me.” 

“I just found it interesting,” Mysterion said, not breaking eye contact, “That the son of a supervillain wants to pursue ‘justice’ with someone people say is more villain than hero.” 

“That’s a load of fucking bullshit and you know it,” Kyley said, neatly folding the papers in his possession. “Villains wouldn’t care like you do. You don’t ask for shit in return.”

“You’re not denying this is your mother?” Mysterion wanted to get this straight. He expected the kid to either get angry or deny the connection. This was neither. 

“That’s Ma,” Kyley looked at the folded papers but didn’t open them again. “Sheila Broflovski.” 

“S-wow,” Mysterion was able to keep a straight face but Kenny would not have been able to say the name without crying laughing. Or tack on the rest of the name. He’d laughed himself stupid all last night. He wasn’t sure what the fuck this kid was about. “One of the last generation’s most…discussed villains.” 

“Sheila, yes,” The first real bit of irritation from Kyley tonight made him slap the papers down into his chair. He looked up, eyes sharp. “Choose your next words carefully.” 

Mysterion gulped down any remnants of Kenny that were trying to rise. “She has a death count.” 

“Yeah, she fucking does,” Kyley set his jaw. “She’s also fucking dead now.” 

Mysterion flinched despite himself. Kyley must have noticed, because the kid’s eyes narrowed. 

“You looked through actual news sites and didn’t manage to stumble across that?” He said, derisively. “The fuck did you do, randomly open a page and read nothing else?” 

“This couldn’t have been recently,” Mysterion blocked the insult, inclining his head warningly. 

“Sixteen months now,” Kyley said, reaching for the remote and muting the edgelord music he had going on. “You live in the fucking town. You’re a hero here. You’re telling me you had no idea she died?” 

“Remember who you’re talking to,” Mysterion cautioned him. He didn’t take kindly to being insulted. The fact he was speaking so nicely with Kyley was a fucking privilege. 

“I didn’t forget,” Kyley said, crossing his arms. “And I’m not denying it. Mom was a villain back in the day, but she retired. And now she’s dead. Any fucking questions or what?” 

Hearing someone speak so bluntly about their parent’s passing was…uncomfortable. Kenny wasn’t exactly on the best terms with his at the moment, but he’d still be devastated if one of them passed away. Definitely wouldn’t be talking about it like this in less than two years from the event. 

“One, yes,” Mysterion said, watching Kyley carefully. “Why _is_ is son of a supervillain offering help to a vigilante?” 

“A hero,” The kid said, stubbornly. “Call me something of a rebel.” 

Unsurprising, he supposed. Mysterion snorted. “This is some post-humous revenge?” 

“Posthumous in this sense means the person who died is the instigator of the action,” Kyley corrected, lifting his chin, and Mysterion turned on his heel. 

Fuck this. He didn’t have time for revenge schemes by some asshole rich kid pretending he could throw money around and make a difference. He had real shit to do. 

“Wait,” Kyley said, and there was something almost self-deprecating in his voice. 

Unable to help himself, Mysterion turned, watching the boy visibly struggle. His teeth were grit, and he wasn’t looking him in the eyes. 

“I have something for you,” Kyley said finally, moving to crouch next to his table and dig in the backpack. 

Mysterion’s eyes narrowed as he watched, untrusting. 

Kyley had a folder, which he held in his outstretched grip. 

“I’ve done some digging into the people who killed the girl,” He said, a softer edge to his voice. “I think you can do more with this shit than I can.” 

He watched, and the boy didn’t take back his hand. Didn’t say anything else. The water lapped at the sides of the pool, and neither said a thing. 

Mysterion walked back to him, close enough to take the folder from Kyley. The brat let him, lifting his chin to look him in the eyes again. His eyes looked brown in the dark, curled-back hair unruly. 

“…I would like to help,” Kyley’s jaw was tight but he stuck with his words. “You need someone with resources and information. I can give you whatever assistance you fucking want. You’re an already established hero in the city and you know what you’re doing.” 

“You want to help for revenge,” Mysterion said, making sure he had this insane story straight, “And you expect me to trust you?” 

Kyley exhaled audibly, shoulders falling as he rolled his eyes. 

“Look,” He said, all earnest, “The reason I’m not out helping people my own damn self is that I fucking can’t. I can’t, alright? Someone could spot who I was, who I’m related to, a mile away and I’d never get anywhere. I’d either be hunted down or I’d have heroes on my ass thinking I’m here to follow in villainy footsteps. And I’m not.” 

Mysterion waited, listening. Kyley didn’t need much encouragement to talk. 

“I have exactly two people I know that I actually trust,” He said, hands accenting his words, “One’s my brother and the other finally has a normal life and I’m not fucking his shit up. There’s no one else. But I believe I can trust you.” 

“Really,” Mysterion said, the corners of his mouth twitching. That was almost funny. 

“Yes, fucking really,” Kyley was looking even more irritated now, eyes snapping, more greenish in the blue pool light. “You’re Mysterion. You’re probably the only person in this fucking hellhole who’s not just out for himself.”

He flipped open the folder. It was probably a half inch thick, opening on carefully-prepared profiles. He had pages on the runners of the mafias, with photographs. Known locations. What they typically did when cornered? 

Thumbing through showed him pages of victims…holy shit, these were accounts. He tracked down accounts and shell companies. 

“Where the fuck did you get this shit?” Mysterion asked, looking back up at the slightly-smug kid. 

“Computer stuff has been my hobby past couple years,” He said, looking completely and utterly pleased. “Just a matter of tracing emails and shit. It’s all I’ve found, so far, I’m still poking around.” 

“That’ll get you killed someday,” Mysterion mentioned, closing the folder again. 

Kyley shrugged. “There’s already people out for my blood. Media went fucking nuts when Ma died. Everyone knows my face.” 

Hmm. The vigilante chewed the inside of his cheek. “You said you had a brother.” 

“Younger,” Here, Kyley’s permanently-furrowed brows lightened somewhat. “And even better, adopted. I’m the main target.” 

Alright. The kid was interesting. Rebelling against a parent’s lifestyle, and offering to supply someone he trusted with information rather than stepping out into the city and causing more trouble. 

Goddammit, he did not want to like this guy. 

“-Which is fucking fine, I can handle myself,” Kyley was saying, following up his previous statement when Mysterion said nothing. 

“Right,” He said, mentally shaking himself. This might…hmm. 

Kyley was watching him, with his stupid necklace and ugly hair and baggy, no-sleeved white shirt. He looked like a total fuckboy and Kenny wasn’t sure if he could suppress a laugh. 

On Mysterion, the gesture was simply a quiet smile. “I can definitely do something with this,” He said, folder held against his side. 

Kyley seemed to relax a little, almost like he was relieved. “Thanks.” 

Thanks. 

He really couldn’t pinpoint this kid. 

Mysterion exhaled, straightening. “I’ll leave you alone.” 

“No rush,” Kyley snorted. “Fuck knows I’m doing nothing. But yeah. If you need anything, you can always come back here. I’m always around.” 

He couldn’t leave. Mysterion was realizing that Kyley probably only said half of what was reality for him. 

He couldn’t leave. 

“I’ll be in touch,” The vigilante finally said, and whirled around the corner of the house out of sight before Kyley could laugh at him trying to scale a fence with an armful of papers.


	3. Sleepover

Kenny had pored over the file, which had colored tabs separating the types of information in order to organize it. He was familiar with almost all the faces, but Kyley had gotten even small-time workers who were known to fraternize with this society. He’d gotten one known distributer. He’d located the home address of three main leaders in the thing. Two lived in Kyley’s neighborhood.

Mysterion could definitely do something with this. He liked to shake the foundation of a group, and he was likely the only hero that could get away with approaching leaders directly. 

So he showed up in some rich guy’s living room, grabbed him by the throat, and slammed him into his pristine glass table. Let him know that he knew who he was, what he was doing, and that he was after him now. Typical threats, but much more satisfying to be making to the face of someone who had so much weight to throw around. 

Unfortunately, this rarely ended well for him. Mysterion was attacked, because naturally someone of this status had bodyguards. Better, however, because by the time he whipped out of the house he didn’t have a knife or bullet embedded in his skin. 

He’d slip through the yards and disappear into the forest across the highway. He definitely was going to have bruises, luckily scars disappeared once his body reset, but he didn’t think anything was broken. He got away relatively unscathed, he thought smugly, as the blood ran into his eyes. Much better than normal, anyhow. 

He was approaching Kyley’s yard, he certainly didn’t have time to stop this time but he’d pass through. He didn’t know how many eyes were on him and whether they saw where he went. 

Mysterion was quick and took the jump with a careful drop and roll. His execution was flawless, but he’d misjudged how close Kyley’s pool was to the edge of his yard. 

He pushed himself up on the ground in a split second, intending to stop himself, but it did nothing to slow the descent and he toppled into the deep end of the pool. 

The water was a slap in the face, a reminder of every time he’d ever sank lethargically to the bottom of a lake or the dockside. Disposed of, body hitting the water solidly, lungs filling with cold water as he faded, pain twisting around his chest. Coughing, choking, and hitting the ground, silt brushing his cheek as he rested against the floor, the last of light leaving him. 

Mysterion, though weighed heavily by his uniform, kicked upwards and was able to breach the surface, gasping for air. His lungs were clear, he was able to breathe easily. 

His soaking gloves slapped the side of the pool as he went to pull himself out of the water, and someone grabbed him under the arms and more or less hauled him out like a wet sack of potatoes. 

The smell of expensive cologne gave him a clue, and common sense told him before he looked up that it was Kyley. The redhead had a look of irate horror on his face, pulling him entirely out of the pool and letting go. 

Mysterion caught himself, sitting up, the fog around his brain finally clearing. The pool was stained red, the water dripping off him was stained pink, blood so diluted that it made it look much worse than what it was. 

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Mysterion told him, interrupting whatever he’d been saying. “Looks bad.” 

“Damn fucking right it looks bad, cockface.” Kyley’s fingers were actually shaking as he touched him again, under the jaw, tilting his head up to look at something. “You followed?” 

“Was for a while,” The vigilante told him, batting his hand away and moving to stand. “I think they’re gone.” 

“Not good enough,” Kyley was at his side, looking in the same direction as if he could see through the absurd fence. “Come inside a second. You’re still fucking bleeding all over the place.” 

Mysterion gave a cursory look at the pool he’d more or less ruined, wondering if he should apologize. Kyley was picking up his laptop, clearly the guy lived outside or something, and walked towards the sliding door. 

He watched him, pressing his lips together. Another decision. He really did not like the idea of stepping inside his house. There was this tentative air between them and he felt odd just going along with something rather than giving it thought. Kyley could definitely still turn out to be a villain himself. 

His ‘research’ on Kyley, -which more or less felt more like stalking- mostly turned up boring things. He had been in private school, didn’t have a criminal record. Any social media he once had was deleted…he found two exes from high school and that was the extent of it. It seemed he always looked like a fuckboy. There was no apparent harm in him, but Mysterion didn’t trust anyone on principal. 

Still. 

Kyley turned once he had the door open, computer tucked under his arm. His eyes narrowed slightly when he saw the vigilante standing there, sopping wet and bleeding still. 

“You alright?” He asked warily, slowly setting his computer on a table inside. 

“Yes,” Mysterion said shortly, and took one more glance at the fence before following the kid. At the very least, he could get some more information, and it wasn’t like Kyley could _really_ hurt him. 

He expected the inside of the place to look like a stereotypical boy’s apartment, alcohol cans and dirty socks and what not. Kyley’s house was damn near pristine. 

Mysterion took a quick survey. Granite countertops, a vase of real flowers on the table. His cabinets had glass fronts and it looked like each dish was uniform, fitting in with the color scheme. Huge fridge, huge stove. Huge tv in the dining room, almost Kenny’s wingspan. 

Most interesting was what was on it. 

Instead of some action show, or Kenny didn’t know what rich people watched, probably home and garden television or something, it was a live feed of all the areas outside the house, multiple angles of the doors. 

Kyley was watching his own house. 

“-as well as that. What exactly happened?” Kyley was saying, and Mysterion snapped back to attention. 

“I went out looking for one of the men you had listed,” He said, still looking around the house. Warm décor, wooden and stone mixed for an earthy feeling. “I rattled him was all.” 

“You went looking for him face to face?!” Kyley looked thunderstruck. “Are you fucking crazy?” 

Mysterion smiled, and said nothing. 

Kyley tsked his tongue, looking over him. “You look fucked up,” He told him bluntly. “You want to patch yourself up?” 

“If I’m not being followed, I don’t intend to stay long,” Mysterion was not making house visits. 

“Just going to haul your bleeding ass down the street, are you?” Kyley huffed, curls falling into his face. “You’re a crazy motherfucker. At least survey yourself and make sure you’ll stay in one piece.” He raised an eyebrow, continuing before Mysterion could turn him down yet again. “I have something else for you.” 

Hmm. The vigilante’s lips curved again, the slight smile becoming permanent. “Do you?” 

Kyley tilted his head, Mysterion could almost see him trying to decipher the words. 

“I’ll be right back,” He said, gesturing. “Look around, I don’t give a shit.”

Mysterion watched him step down the hall before moving. Kyley clearly meant around the kitchen and dining room, but he’d seen enough of that. He walked down the opposing hallway, where three doors were. 

One was a library of sorts, small, but stacked with leatherbound books. He had a map of Middle-Earth that looked weathered and old sitting above the fireplace, and a sofa chair in the corner. 

He was a fucking nerd. A nerdy, Elven-obsessed nerd. Oh, if they were friends he’d destroy him with that information. 

Mysterion opened the next door, peering in, and froze. 

He swung the door open the rest of the way, turning on the light. His eyes didn’t deceive him, and his own face stared back at him. 

Well, not exactly his own face. It was painted, without detail, almost a blur of color, the style being all in the lighting. Greys mostly, face illuminated in green under a pulled-down hood. Mysterion, in a painted portrait. An original painted portrait. 

The only thing more startling than seeing himself on the wall was double-checking, no need but he just _had_ to, and seeing the scrawled signature of ‘Kenneth’ in the corner. 

Mysterion stared, looking back around the room. Cityscapes mostly, a couple with silhouettes of other heroes, or himself, one with sweeps of purple at one side of the canvas and the other with greens and blondes, the last time he faced Chaos. 

No, it was definitely more startling to realize Kyley bought _his_ paintings than it was to see himself on the walls. He was going back over his invoices tonight. 

He tore his eyes away from the pictures to see Kyley had an office set up, a desk with locked drawers, a locked cabinet, newspapers stacked neatly in their own stand. 

This was a working office where Kyley researched superheroes. A bookshelf in the corner with much more modern volumes, sporting titles like ‘fallacies of vigilantism’ and ‘who are heroes’. 

This was unreal. Mysterion looked back up at the main portrait, the centerpiece, framed in patterned silver metal and covered in glass. Mysterion reached out to touch it, the care and pride that went to owning a portrait of himself, a portrait _he_ painted and sold. 

“I didn’t mean poke around here!” 

Kyley sounded irate, and Mysterion turned swiftly to see the kid red-faced and furious. He stared back, silent, as the kid jerked his thumb behind him. 

“Out,” He said, and Mysterion swallowed another smile. 

He passed lightly, like a ghost, realizing only then that he was still dripping water onto his floors. Kyley shoved a towel into his hands, eyes snapping. 

“You satisfied, you fucking asshole?” He asked, storming away from him. Mysterion followed, feeling oddly lighter than he had in ages. 

“You own portraits of me?” He asked, finding he just couldn’t help himself. “When exactly did you become an obsessed fan?” 

“Oh, you can shove it up your gaping muff,” Kyley told him, slapping another folder down onto the counter in rage. “You absolute fucktoy. They’re just good paintings. They capture everything that’s _in_ this fucking shithole…you have nothing to do with it!”

Actually he did, and Kenny was going to have his delighted freakout later. He had a fan. 

“Where do you get them?” He asked, still holding the towel in his hands. 

“Just online, from some guy,” Kyley said, going around the kitchen and straightening things that didn’t look the least bit unkempt. “I get everything online, I just stumbled across him one day.” 

Damn right you did. Mysterion was still smiling, but that did bring up something he wanted to discuss. 

“You don’t leave the house, do you?” He asked, getting directly to the point. “You can’t.” 

Kyley set his jaw, shooting a look over at him. His gaze burned, that odd greenish-brown color, but surprisingly he didn’t spout any more profanities at him. 

“You’re getting water all over the fucking floor,” he mentioned, and Mysterion tried to sop the water from his cape. “And no. I have way too many people after my fucking blood. There’s guards on alert if something goes wrong. Cameras fucking everywhere,” He gestured towards the television. “I live in fucking prison.” 

“It’s a nice fucking prison,” Mysterion commented, starting to feel chilled now that he was starting to dry in the air conditioning. 

“Sure,” Kyley said, leaning back against the counter. “Only try being stuck here for over a year. See how old it gets.” 

The vigilante frowned. “You showed up to find me,” He pointed out. 

“And that,” Kyley said wryly, “Was the first time I’d been out of this fucking place in months. Someone called your fight in to police, and it was close enough that I had to get there before they did.” 

Mysterion slowly turned that over in his head. He had quite a few more questions, but Kyley interrupted him before he got to them. 

“Do you just want to take a shower?” The kid mentioned, raising an eyebrow at him. “You’re still covered in blood and your uniform is fucking wrecked.” 

Mysterion looked down at himself. He’d escaped the worst of wounds, but his chest had been sliced, leaving gaps in the material. His body was already working hard to heal himself, but he’d have to sew again tonight. 

“A no to the shower,” He said decisively. “But I’ll dry off in a bathroom.” 

“I suppose you know where one is,” Kyley snarked, “Or did you just happen across the one fucking room first try?” 

He supposed that was what the third door was, and he headed back to the hall to the bathroom. Not before heckling the kid a little, though. 

“I also found your nerd room,” He told him, and cut off Kyley’s colorful insult with a slammed door. 

Jesus tapdancing Christ no wonder Kyley kept mentioning his appearance. 

His uniform was stained red, slashes everywhere, and he could see the bruising on his face even under his mask. His lip was bleeding and he was definitely going to have a black eye if he didn’t reset himself later. 

He’d deal with that later on. This was just getting interesting. 

Mysterion dried off, shucking off boots and gloves and cape, leaving him in his mask and what was little more than a thin, torn leotard. This kid was fascinating. He was stuck here, trying to do some good, he had a brain room involving heroes based on Kenny’s artwork and this whole day was just a fucking present from the universe. About time. 

He draped the cape over his arm, it being too wet to put back on immediately. He tossed the towel into the hamper and went back out to the kitchen, Kyley disappeared. 

“Living room,” The guy called, and Mysterion turned the corner to see him sitting on a couch, papers spread over a short, dark wood coffee table. 

Kyley looked up at him, eyes flitting over his figure. He looked thoughtful, but Mysterion couldn’t help it anymore. 

“I don’t feel comfortable with you doing that,” He said with an absolute straight face, “Now knowing you have a shrine of me in your office.” 

“Go fuck yourself!” Kyley burst, throwing something at him. 

Mysterion caught the item, a soft black hoodie, one-handed and with a smirk. 

“And put that on,” Kyley said, going back to angrily organizing papers. “I keep it cold in here.” 

Mysterion was silent, but set his cape on the couch and pulled on the jacket. It was warm, too big for him, and he pulled up the hood immediately. He felt oddly shaken. 

“Your uniform is fucking ridiculous,” Kyley snapped, not looking at him. “You want a new one?” 

“Do I want a new uniform?” Mysterion repeated, amused. “Are you going to make one for me?” 

“Maybe, if you stop being a cunt about it,” Kyley looked like he was going to smack him for that one. He lifted his chin, eyes sparking. “It looks nearly worn through in places. No wonder you’re mostly nocturnal, people would laugh their asses off at you in the daytime.” 

“Watch your mouth,” Mysterion warned without any real heat as he sat on the other end of the couch. He couldn’t help the smirk. “I’m not taking criticisms from a punk kid who looked like he jumped off Jersey Shore.” 

Kyley flipped him off. “And yet I’m scarier looking than you, sugar,” He said, crossing ankle over knee, “You need a serious upgrade.” 

Mysterion shook his head at him, reaching for one of the papers set out on the couch. This he didn’t like looking at, a picture of the victim that had spurred him into action in the first place. He set it back down. 

“Why not just move away?” He asked, picking up a map. “I’m not from here originally, I moved in when heroes became a thing. You could at least step outside the city your mom used to torment, couldn’t you?” 

Kyley settled back against the couch as well, jaw set. “Can’t,” He said simply, expression shutting down. 

Mysterion settled his eyes on him. He pushed the hoodie back, exposing his mask more, waiting. 

“I can handle this shit better than Ike can,” He said finally, tossing his papers back on the table. “Now that Ma’s dead, they need someone to blame. They might as well get Sheila’s birth son.”

“And how does your family feel about that?” Mysterion guessed Ike was his brother, in context. 

“Yeah, she and my dad divorced, he took Ike and she took me,” Kyley didn’t look upset over that, smirking over at him. “Those two get to stay back. Notice I’m the only kid mentioned as surviving her?” 

“He’s dead?” Mysterion asked, alarmed at his blasé attitude. 

“No, you fucking crack, he’s just out of the spotlight,” Kyley shook his head at him, disgustedly. “I’ve just been flagged by the government. There’s no point in moving. People would know.” 

He mulled that over. Yep. That was entirely fucking stupid. “How the big house?” He asked, nodding towards the ceiling. 

“Yeah, my dad wasn’t going to leave me shit,” Kyley snorted. “So I got everything from Ma, with the instructions to always help out Ike if he ever needs it.” 

He knew his Kenny was showing, but the words filtered out of his mouth anyhow. 

“And you are,” he said, eyes fixated on Kyley as the boy jerked his gaze over to him. “Aren’t you? You keep their attention on you. Not your little brother.” 

Kyley shrugged. 

Mysterion could see past him. This was some stupid kid who wanted, so badly, to be a hero. Do the right thing. But he was trapped by the new revelation of who he was, afraid to step out of the spotlight in order for a new victim to step into place. 

Sure, he was rude, overly prideful, and didn’t seem to have loads of common sense. But Kenny could understand someone just struggling to do the right thing. It was what everyone in the city was doing, all those with a mask and a vague idea of what they wanted to accomplish. 

He’d tell Kyley so, but he wasn’t sure how he’d take it. 

So instead he licked his lips, deciding to get to business. “Show me what I’m looking at,” He demanded, and Kyley started off on the connection between victim and who he thought might be at the cause of all of this. 

\--

Kenny blinked his eyes open, gritting his teeth against his sore neck. 

Groggily, he reached up to rub it, realizing he had fallen asleep in a chair. No, on a couch. After a momentary panic he realized he was still in Kyley’s house. 

The clock said it was just over two hours until dawn. Kenny was still in his Mysterion getup, sans cloak, wrapped up in Kyley’s sweater. He glanced next to him, holding his breath. 

The young man was lying on the couch, legs draped over the side, still holding papers he probably fell asleep looking at. His head was inches away from Kenny, eyelids twitching as he dreamed, one hand dangling off the couch onto the rug. 

He actually looked like a kid, now. Kenny knew he was only a couple months younger than him, of course, but Kyley was sprawled out and snoozing peacefully. 

What an interesting kid. Kenny bit the inside of his cheek. He moved his hand, just inches to the left, gently touching reddish curls. 

Oh god, he used so much hair product. Gross. Despite that, he gently brushed back the curls over his forehead. This stupid motherfucker. Just leave your damn house and make sure your family stays out of the spotlight. He was a dumbass martyr and sometime he’d have to talk to him about that. 

Kenny was surprised to realize that he _wanted_ to talk to him about it. He wanted him to realize that, while genuinely a good sentiment and one that should be respected, he was going about this a really stupid way. 

Being a hero through Mysterion wasn’t going to fix whatever was clearly making Kyley miserable. Whether it was residual anger at his mother for who she was, or leaving him, or confusion over who himself should be…Kenny didn’t know. He did know this wasn’t healthy. 

He’d have to come back. 

Kenny’s hand rested gently on Kyley’s forehead, like he was checking for a fever. He’d have to come back, check on his stupid ass and make sure he wasn’t shriveling away in this crazy magazine-ready house. 

Kenny brushed back his hair again and carefully stood, watching to make sure Kyley didn’t so much as twitch a reddish eyelash. The boy didn’t stir. 

He left the hoodie on the table, swinging his cloak back around his shoulders. He watched Kyley, feeling an odd rush of affection. 

Mysterion picked up some papers he definitely needed to look back over, being quiet and quick. He hadn’t meant to sleep overnight at his house, he’d gone from being wary around the kid to snoozing inches away from him. This certainly felt odd. 

Mysterion locked himself out of the house, just in case, breathing in the early morning air. 

Two goals now. Time to get home and try to achieve them both.


	4. Reading

Mysterion ran along the top of the apartment building, getting a good jump across the alleyway onto the laundromat, a quick drop roll and back running against the rooftops. 

Kyley was investigating one of the shell companies currently, trying to catch the gang on legal grounds like fraud or evasion. Kenny was going the route of physical altercations and shutting down operations as they popped up, kept in the know by Kyley’s research and whatever information he wormed from lackeys. 

This was honestly fun. It was nice not to stumble in the dark, Kyley had information and Mysterion chose where to go from there. They were creeping in on the main ring, which was where Kenny wanted to work his scare tactics and Kyley wanted him to snag a phone or something. This was ending up exciting, fast-paced action at last as they closed in. 

Mysterion leapt over the fence, into the yard, striding past the pool to the glass door. Kyley was sitting at his dining table, clearly finishing dinner, and he jumped up before the vigilante reached the door and unlocked it for him. 

Kenny was sort of hit with an odd feeling, the kind you got when you went to a friend’s house after school, or during a summer afternoon. A warm sort of affection, which he brushed away quickly to resume his Mysterion persona. 

“I’ve definitely found something,” Kyley was saying, already getting into the spiel. “I’m still getting it in order for you, you’re fucking early-”

“I was nearby,” Mysterion said, sweeping around the table to stand and watch the cameras. “I didn’t mean to make you stop eating.” 

“I’m fine,” Kyley looked almost insulted at the politeness. “It’s fucking whatever, honestly, this is important. Give me a second.” 

The boy sat himself back down, furiously typing away with a determined furrow to his brow. Mysterion stood behind him and watched, silent as always. 

“Did you catch those fuckers out at the docks last night?” Kyley asked, without looking away from the screen. “I listened to the police scanner almost all the night through and heard nothing. Not a word.” 

“I’m holding off on that,” Mysterion replied, “Until there’s something bigger going on I can interrupt. I’m not going to storm a building just to stop six guys.” 

Kyley did look at him then, an up-and-down kind of look that wasn’t flattering and wasn’t meant to be. He took the hint and found he couldn’t let it go. 

“I could still kick your ass,” Mysterion warned. “Any fucking day. Any time.” 

“Don’t threaten that unless you mean it, babe,” Kyley’s eyes glittered as he tugged his necklace absently. “I’m no shirking violet.” 

“Neither am I,” The vigilante replied simply, and it was a sign of how well they’d been getting along that Kyley dropped it after that. 

Or so he thought. He turned back around, certainly, but his typing was slower as he spoke. 

“I still think an update in uniform and something in technology is in order,” Kyley stubbornly suggested. 

“I’m not ever getting involved in the stupid headset thing you suggested,” Mysterion was quick to toss that away but Kyley remained undaunted. 

“I don’t like the thought of you jumping into stupid shit on your own,” The kid replied, still tapping away on the computer. “What if you ever need help?” 

“I’ve gone over a decade on my own,” The vigilante reminded him, almost gently. “I’ve never needed anyone else yet.” 

“Except me, to sort through loads of bullshit,” Kyley snarked, scrolling back up through his document. 

“You offered your services,” Mysterion reminded him, “And I didn’t say I needed you.” 

“You’re such a dick. I don’t know why I bother with you,” Kyley sounded like he was only half paying attention before he stood up. “Here. I simplified the original documents. Read through this, my printer is broken and I can’t exactly got to the fucking library and print this shit out.” 

Mysterion didn’t move. “How about you just tell me where to read the documents?” 

“Sure,” Kyley said, moving to take his plate back into the kitchen. “If you feel like going through 724 pages of flowery fuckery instead of just three. Sit your ass down.” 

“I can handle three pages of flowery fuckery,” Kenny couldn’t help but say, and he heard Kyley snort from the kitchen. 

He did admire the fact that the kid could retain and regurgitate information like this. Kenny was smart enough but grew bored too easily. Kyley could literally just sit down and read through a long document and take notes, reorganize those notes, and create something to the point and informational in just a couple pages. 

He didn’t tell him this, however, because first of all he was Mysterion, who was careful about getting too invested. Secondly, this was Kyley-B. He’d likely rub it in his face forever, the asshole. 

A cursory glance proved that Kyley wasn’t in the kitchen any longer, having fucked off elsewhere. Mysterion read through the pages. Someone with weight in the city was supplying this group of people with money, he’d known that, but he hadn’t heard about the court case against one of the members that got oddly dropped. It pointed to someone within one of the political or judicial systems and Kyley had suspects narrowed down, with big capital red letters telling Mysterion DO NOT APPROACH. Apparently, all were also extremely anti-heroism. 

Having read through the document and wanting to see the original contents, Mysterion minimized the window to be met with another word document. Unashamedly, he skimmed the page.

_cursory, rather than see the big picture as a whole._

_Sheila Broflovski was first and foremost, my mother. What laid in her past was never spoken of in my household and would never be envisioned even by the most vivid of imaginations._

_I learned of all this myself when my parents divorced, and my father decided to make certain that my brother and I were split apart._

_He felt I was too much like her; that I was a terrible influence on my brother and doomed to eventually follow in her footsteps. Ike was every bit as intelligent as I was, in fact I believe him to be more so, and I believe my father thought he had a ‘second chance’ at raising someone he wouldn’t have to write off as an irredeemable failure of a personality._

_He told Ike everything. That our mother used to be a supervillain, one known for sexual prowess and having killed heroes and citizens in the dozens, whether by personal machinations or inadvertently. That they’d been together only because she was impregnated with me, his older brother, and that he regretted so many things but that Ike was not one of them. He didn’t realize that Ike would immediately come to me and tell me everything._

_I could forgive him for many things, but I cannot and will not forgive him for laying that all out in front of Ike, who was just about to turn thirteen._

_My shortcomings are my own. They have nothing to do with her. I refuse to blame her for my troubles just the same I refuse to be blamed for hers. Who I am and whatever my destiny is will not be determined by DNA, and instead by what I choose to do and when. What I have chosen so far has not ended up with anyone else hurt and I do not intend for it ever to be so._

_I am, as I always have been, my own._

_-Kyle Broflovski_

Kenny was intrigued. He’d fought his share of villains and it was always fascinating when a little bit of humanity was shown. Kyley hadn’t written anything else and he was actually about to scroll up and read from the beginning when he felt eyes on him. 

Mysterion turned sharply, seeing Kyley with his necklace in his teeth now and narrowed eyes. 

“Scuse you, motherfucker,” Kyley said, taking the chain from his mouth to slide his fingers along it. “What’s with you and poking around where you don’t belong?” 

“What is this?” Mysterion ignored his question for one of his own. “A book?” 

“Be a short fucking book,” Kyley said derisively. “It’s nothing I’m actually thinking about publishing, but it’s an article. A column.” 

“You should.” Kenny said quietly, looking back at the screen. “Or something like it. Maybe with less about your dad, that sounded personal. But people don’t have an insight into your mind, Kyle-”

“Kyley,” The kid insisted. “And no fucking chance.”

He was so goddamn stubborn. Mysterion could tear his curls out. 

“Maybe for the best,” He couldn’t help snarking. “It doesn’t even sound like you. It’s so eloquent, almost poetic. I needed about sixteen more insults and punctuated cursing.” 

That made Kyley smile, though he immediately bit his lip to hide it. “I happen to be extremely eloquent, thank you very much,” he told the vigilante. 

“Maybe, if you programmed your computer to censor yourself,” Mysterion teased. 

“Maybe I did.” Kyley’s eyes sparkled. “Made a program to erase ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’ when they come up and correct ‘assholes’ to ‘distinguished readers’ or some shit.” 

That made him laugh, a soft breathy thing unlike Kenny’s warm giggling. “I’d believe it.” 

Kyley was openly grinning now, which softened his looks astronomically. He looked almost cute. It was rare to get a glimpse of him without a scowl or caution scrawled over his face.

Kenny had the sneaking suspicion that a lot of this was a layered-on act. Which he understood, maybe no one more than him. To a degree, so was Mysterion. Someone safe, someone stronger, but still the exact same person. 

Kyley did not seem like this whole thing was out of revenge. He no longer bought the rebel story, though he didn’t think he was a mama’s boy, either. Kenny still had a little more to dig up on him. 

“What did your mom say,” He asked, unmoving, “When she knew what your father told you two?” 

Kyley shrugged, though Kenny noticed he wasn’t meeting his eyes anymore. “She wasn’t happy. I used that for ages afterwards, though, if I didn’t agree with her.” 

Mysterion said nothing. There was a lot telling in that statement, in that expression. He watched, analyzing each twitch of his brow and twist of his lips. In the end… 

“Look, she wasn’t right most of the time, and she was honestly a total nightmare to have as a mother,” Kyley seemed to dislike being watched so intently. “But if she didn’t tell us, and the way she raised us…she wanted us to be better than that. She wanted me to be better than her. I know she did.” 

In the end, this was just a stupid kid mourning his mother. Kenny felt a dull, almost sad sort of satisfaction in being right again. The whole rebel thing was Kyley’s Mysterion. His mask. 

And if he were Kenny right now, he’d call him out on it. Mysterion couldn’t do softness like that. 

“Now get out of my chair, asshat,” Kyley said, with a jerky hand motion. “You’ve rooted around enough for today.” 

Mysterion didn’t move, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “No one’s stopping you from sitting,” He pointed out, feeling like a refreshing spat might jerk him out of this oddly soft mood. 

“You’re in my chair,” Kyley said again, as if he just hadn’t understood, and like he’d committed a grand crime. “Out.” 

“There’s lots of chairs, Kyley,” Kenny told him, biting hard to keep the grin away. “Pick one.” 

Kyle Broflovski was seriously done with his shit, he could tell. The boy’s hair was a disaster, he didn’t think there was even any product in it, and honestly it looked cute. All frizzed up and curls furling every which way. He looked as irritable as his hair, setting his jaw with a lifted chin, the muscles under his skin moving visibly. 

Kyley stepped over, swung his leg over the chair, and sat on Mysterion’s legs, facing him, elbows against the table. 

Now, if Kenny had done this, he would have pulled it off one of two ways. One: adorably, make the recipient want to snuggle him up for eternity and never let go. Two: enticingly, an offer and opportunity for someone to take what they wanted. 

Kyley had an honestly very appealing third option: intimidatingly, like he might either blow the person or sock them in the jaw and you wouldn’t know which one it was going to be. 

If he’d been Kenny, he honestly would have been totally okay with either option as long as he kept looking at him like that. Luckily, Mysterion had a better grip on his emotions, keeping his expression more or less guarded after the initial surprise. 

Kyley stared him right in the eyes, sitting on Mysterion’s lap like he was the vigilante’s divine ruler. Unafraid, unabashed, and unrepentant. 

“Get out of my fucking chair,” He said, dead serious. 

“I can’t,” Mysterion said, meeting Kyley’s gaze with cool blue. “Your dead weight is keeping me here, lardass.” 

If he’d been Kenny, the quip would have been about having a second asshole, this one in his lap. He couldn’t use it for danger of cracking up halfway through. 

“Don’t lardass me, you scrawny little rat,” Kyley was retorting. “I’m surprised you don’t fall over any time someone sneezes in your direction, you skinny bitch.” 

Mysterion was about to doubly insult his fat ass, only thinking about his ass was a terrible idea in this situation, because he hadn’t checked it out or anything but he was sitting _in his lap_ and suddenly this was a terrible idea. 

“I have actual things I need to get done tonight,” Mysterion told him, lifting his chin. “So get your pasty butt up.” Stop talking about his butt. 

“I’m not taking orders from a string bean,” Kyley said, at the same time he lifted himself up and back a step off. 

He had nice thighs, Kenny couldn’t help but notice. Nice butt, nice thighs. He struggled to get his mind back on track. 

Mysterion stood, elegant and fluid as always, looking directly into greenish-brown eyes. 

The asshole. He felt another soft rush of affection. 

“I’ll stop by again,” He said, as close to a reassurance as Mysterion could bear, and Kyley’s lips upturned in a reluctant smile. 

“Good,” He said, arms crossed and weight almost entirely on one leg. “Get me a fucking phone, already.”

“Goodnight, brat,” Mysterion whirled, ready to disappear back into the night. 

“Don’t die tonight,” The words had started out of irony, Kyley could never understand what he was saying. Even now, they were laced with sarcasm. 

And underneath, genuine warmth. It was almost his favorite part of every visit. 

Mysterion said nothing else. He’d be back. 

He whipped back out of the house, running over the new information in his head, the case and the person. New steps had been taken in both. Yet again, he was left to decide what he was going to do, in both situations. 

And yet again, he left that decision to another night. Maybe another visit.


	5. Danger

Mysterion leaned over the steel roof, keeping an eye out as he felt the outline of the short window with his fingertips. It was unlatched, and he pried it open, slowing his breathing in order to listen to anything that might be going on inside. 

Kyley’s digging had uncovered a meeting between some higher-ranking members tonight, visiting the actual site for once, and Mysterion would never have a more perfect opportunity to show up and walk through their little meeting room. 

The window open, he took another careful look before grasping the edge and swinging down, smoothly slipping through the opening and holding onto the window as he judged how far the fall onto the warehouse floor would be. 

There were massive boxes stacked under the windows, and Mysterion dropped lightly onto them. He crouched, listening. The room was huge, with large boxes and machinery stacked, there was a second floor with a single light on, he’d bet there was a meeting room of sorts set up there. 

Lightly, he leapt onto the ground and began to weave between stacked items, eyes on the light. His boots made soft scuffs on the ground and his cape whipped lightly, but otherwise all was silent but for the buzzing of the light. Get in, make a scene, break some bones, grab a phone for Kyley. Here was where they instilled some real fear into the upper level of this hellhole. 

Kenny vaguely wondered when he’d started referring to them as a team. 

A loud noise rang out, and Mysterion jerked, stumbling against a box. He’d been shot, between the hip and ribs, and intense burning pain and a shock chilling his entire body. 

The lights flipped on, slowly, starting at one area of the room and chasing him down, exposing him to the light. He had a split second to see that he was surrounded before ducking between the boxes, more shots ringing out behind him. 

He pressed a hand to his hip, realizing he’d just been grazed. The bullet hadn't pierced him, just taken a good chunk of his skin, but there was no way they were reacting to hearing him slip in through the window. 

They’d expected him. 

He listened as the shooting stopped, people moving in to trap him. At least eight on his left, more on the right. Probably some above, if they were clever, though they’d be more unlikely to fire in case they hit allies. 

Best was to move one to one, then get up above quickly and take the rest down. He’d see if he had to do anything more once he stepped back out into the main room. 

Kenny took a long breath, exhaling. Time for Mysterion to make sure they regretted it.

He stepped out onto the floor and immediately kicked the first man back into a partner. He made sure to keep moving, never still for a second. He punched one in the solar plexus, letting him bend over before smashing his face into the concrete. One caught his shoulder, but he used the motion to swing him out of the way. There were many trying to get distance now, which was the proper thing to do, but Mysterion wasn’t going to give them that chance. 

He grabbed one by the shirt collar and hefted him into another, using speed in order to carry force. He had to keep moving, keep it impossible to hit a target that was moving rapidly among team members and keep him from being shot at. He could handle close combat most of the time. 

One man caught him, kicking him right where the bullet had grazed, and Mysterion staggered back. The man kicked him in the hip before bringing his fist onto his face. He went for the knees, gritting his teeth against the pain and temporary blankness he saw as he sent the man staggering. 

He stumbled to his feet, kicking in his face for good measure before spitting blood and taking a look around. He was too out in the open again. 

Whipping around massive pallets of boxes, he swiped one’s feet from over him and stepped over him to grab another by the throat. He kept a grip on his neck before smashing him into the metal column of the warehouse and threw him on top of the toppled gunman. Most were down. Keep moving. 

They were shouting, some were running, Mysterion didn’t know whether for cover, safety, or reinforcements. He just kept moving. 

He leapt on top of a box, jumping from one to another while watching the men on the second floor, who were leaning over the rail and watching, waiting. 

He could leap from one stack and try to catch the railing. Kenny wasn’t sure if he could make it, his side hurt like hell and he was pretty sure something was wrong with his leg. But there was never any real consequence, which was what made Mysterion terrifying. You had a vague sense that you set the bastard on fire, only he crawled back out of hell aflame to drag you down with him. This was who Mysterion was. A monster, fear. Something Kenny had long grown to accept. 

He jumped the distance, catching the rail and feeling the strain on his body as he lifted himself up, legs swinging over the sides, cape slithering behind like an evil snake. 

The first one was stupid and came right after him, so he pitched him over the side. He walked, didn’t run, down the walkway with his eyes set on the men standing. 

Wait. 

One was nicer dressed, more nervous, and didn’t look at all like a fighter. Young, pale, and blanched when Mysterion gaze fell on him. 

Now hold on, this might be what he needed. 

Mysterion broke into a run, passing startled gunmen without even sparing them a glance and the young man ran, swearing. Not fast enough, Mysterion had him down in another instant and slammed his head into the grated walkway until he saw stars. 

Incapacitated, the boy was safe for now and the vigilante stood, hearing the person behind him before he even turned. 

He reached out before he turned, intending to grab and toss like he had the first one, and had less than a second to react. 

He clapped his hand over the gun to push and it shot through, missing his body by inches and shattering bones in his hand. 

Mysterion quickly wrapped his hand up in the end of his cloak and did not look away. One hand, he had three guys left. 

He toppled the one who shot him over the edge, slamming the next one with his entire body weight against the railing, feeling the crackle of the other’s ribs before kicking him down. The last one was running. 

Mysterion didn’t let him get far. Before he reached the stairs, Mysterion had him in a chokehold, kicking the back of his knees so he collapsed and keeping him down. 

All was quiet, except for soft, pained cries and Mysterion’s ragged breathing. He stumbled back to his feet, back hitting the warehouse wall. He was bleeding, he’d have to check the bullet burn, his face had unknown injuries at this point, and his hand was going to force him to kill himself later because he could not work with this. His healing abilities wouldn’t be able to catch up before he’d need to use it again. 

Mysterion peeled himself away from the wall, stepping over unconscious bodies and walking back over to the kid who was lying on the ground whimpering. He rooted through his jacket, pulling out an iphone with his good hand. 

Kyley was going to be thrilled. Kenny hoped this was someone important, because otherwise he’d never hear the end of it. 

His bad hand was bleeding through his cape and he needed to leave. Reset in the safety of his home, then curl up under blankets for the rest of the night. Mysterion began descending the stairs, jaw clenched, already feeling the adrenaline fading and leaving him feeling tired and weak-limbed. 

Definitely time for a reset. Reset, sleep, then bursting into an asshole's house to tell him he finally got something useful, after days of absolutely nothing turning up-

Someone rounded the corner under the light, flying past boxes, and Mysterion stopped, moving to stand more firmly, looking for whether the figure was approaching with a weapon. 

Kyley stopped short when he saw him, and the two stared each other down. 

The kid was visibly breathing fast, chest heaving, necklace catching the singular light and glittering around his neck. He was wearing shorts and the hoodie he’d given Kenny to wear back at his house, and looked completely unkempt. 

Kyley’s eyes widened as he realized who was walking down the stairs, and Mysterion never looked away. 

They watched each other a moment, Kenny just soaking in the sight.

“They set me up,” Kyley said, voice breathy and filled with an earnest edge Kenny could _feel_. “They fucking set me up. They caught the fact that someone anonymous was making inquiries on company partners and histories…they realized someone was after them and they set up an ambush, I’m-”

He had to break to breathe, chest rising and falling as Mysterion reached the end of the stairs, approaching the boy with an unbroken pace. 

“I’m sorry,” Kyley said. “I didn’t know. They were emailing each other about it, I came down here soon as I saw it.”

He stopped when he was almost toe-to-toe with the kid, hood falling and cape wrapped haphazardly around his bleeding and crushed hand. His breaths sounded too loud, labored and unlike the soft, silent breaths of a shadowed hero. 

“I didn’t know,” Kyley’s eyes drifted over him, focusing on his face, the bloodied cape. “What the flying fuck did they do to you?!”

Mysterion held out the phone. Silently. 

Kyley looked at him like he was trying to hand him a snake. His gaze flit over the people lying on the ground, to the phone, over Mysterion again, reaching his eyes with this absolutely flabbergasted expression that he couldn’t help but snort at. 

“I know,” He said simply. 

Of course Kyley didn’t know. This wouldn’t be his style. The kid was brash and angry, and as emotional as he was logical…he would have kicked his ass himself or at least have been present if he meant any harm. 

But no. There was never any harm in the guy, something he'd figured out pretty quickly. He just didn't expect he'd rush in like this if he realized he made a misstep. Kyley realized he’d led Mysterion into an ambush and had no way to contact him, and so walked into what he assumed was a death trap in order to try and save or warn him. Despite never even leaving his home, despite what he felt was out there waiting for him. 

And now the kid was staring at him like he hung the stars, warming Kenny’s chilled body from his chest outward. 

“Here’s your phone,” Mysterion held it up, in case Kyley hadn’t quite caught on to what he was holding. 

Kyley’s eyes flicked back to the phone, and he took it out of Mysterion’s hand. He looked back up, expression filled with fire, and took another step forward. 

He kissed him, on the mouth, unhesitant and unrepentant as the stupid brat did everything else in his life. 

He was startled at first, but Mysterion’s cool ended there as Kenny melted, reaching up with his good hand to cup his jaw. Kyley slid his hands up his chest to cup his own face, just as Mysterion tangled his gloved hand into his curls. 

The punk was being surprisingly gentle, kissing firmly and almost sweetly, which almost seemed odd- it didn't feel like he pictured a first kiss from the boy- but he certainly wasn’t complaining. Kenny had the sneaking suspicion that had something to do with him looking like a sorry mess. 

Kyley broke the kiss to breathe and Kenny kissed his bottom lip, gently brushing his thumb through his styled hair. 

His expression was something he was treasuring, something akin to disbelief and absolute awe. God fucking damn. Sometimes he fucking felt like a hero. 

Kyley was watching him like he was expecting a different reaction. Mysterion didn't move away, didn't push him off, just kept gently running his fingers over his scalp and held his gaze. Definitely green, but with flecks of brown in places. He was a handsome boy, honestly, and Kenny fucking _knew_ he'd been into him from the get go, that had totally crossed his mind. The thought made his lips twist into a smile, which he hid by kissing him again, a little more directly.

He couldn't even tease him for a crush. His own hands were shaking.

“We need to get you out of here,” Kyley was murmuring against his lips, and the vigilante had to fight off the stab of disappointment.

With a mental sigh, Mysterion swept his arm behind him, around his waist, and led him away from the felled lackeys. 

Kyley had an arm around him as well, like they were two teenagers walking through a mall and not the intelligent and rich son of a supervillain or a feared vigilante that just took out an entire warehouse of goons. 

“So you came after me,” Mysterion murmured, warmth thrumming in his veins. “You’re supposed to be smart, Broflovski.” 

“I wasn’t going to sit around home and hope you made it out alright!” Kyley burst angrily, though he kept his arm around the hero. “Of course I went after you.”

“You thought my old man bones wouldn’t be able to handle what I’ve been doing for years?” Mysterion couldn’t help but flaunt. “You _do_ know we’re the same age, right?” 

“Oh, shove it up your gaping muff,” Kyley sounded embarrassed, which made him sound even angrier. “I would have gone after you regardless, you fucking cunt.” 

He was squeezing Mysterion a little tighter towards him. 

“I need to get you home,” He said, thumb smoothing along Kyley’s side. 

“Like fuck you do, what you actually need is a hospital.” The Jersey-born kid bristled. “What even happened to your hand?” 

Kenny was not taking the cloak off to look. He knew once he did, whatever adrenaline was keeping his body together would be gone. “Don’t worry about it.” 

Kyley withdrew, startled, and he realized that had been a lot less Mysterion in the voice and a lot more dorky blond. He didn’t cough or address it, simply switched back. 

“I’m helping you home-” He began, but Kyley-B wasn’t having any of it. 

“You’re going to get help, or I’m sitting on the concrete right fucking here and calling you an ambulance,” Kyley let go of him, stepping to face him entirely. They were outside finally, in near pitch dark, the cityscape behind them. “Challenge me, I dare you. You’re not walking me home while you’re bleeding out on the gravel.” 

Kenny looked him over, brows furrowing slightly. Kyley reached for his mask and he froze, but the boy merely straightened it and pulled the hood back to it’s proper place. 

This was Kyley, without a mask. Still blunt, still rude, still prideful. But a lot of what he was happened to be emotional and attached, protective and what Kenny believed to be coming from a good place. Passionate. Strength and passion were Kyley's key points. This sweetness was just a hidden bonus in the wild personality.

“You’ll go home alone?” He asked, voice softening. 

“Yeah,” Kyley looked uncomfortable but solid in his decision. “I am. And you’re getting help.” 

Well, that was vague enough that he could agree to. 

Mysterion nodded, slightly, gently letting go of the boy. “I will.” 

Both of them watched each other, uncertain. 

“Kyley,” Mysterion wasn’t exactly sure where to go once he’d said something. The kid was listening, attentively enough, and he fell back on something he meant to mention anyhow. 

“I don’t think you’re in any actual danger,” He began, and realized how it sounded. “I mean I don’t think you will be. I think you have work to do, but…” 

The kid had his jaw set, was already resting his weight on one leg, was ready to tear down his argument and tell him why he was _wrong_ but only after he said the whole thing. Only after he listened. Kenny’s smile was involuntary. 

“What makes a hero is the ability to put yourself in danger for others,” He said simply. Kyley’s face drained of color as he visibly struggled. Kenny gave him some mercy. “Goodnight, Kyle.” 

And he turned away, disappearing back into the darkness. 

His chest was warm, even if the rest of his body ached with cold.

After the reset, he peeled his cape caked in dried blood from his now-unblemished hand. The early morning light filtered in from where he sat on the floor, inspecting the flawless skin beneath.

He'd have to clean his costume up and go see if Kyley remembered flying into danger with a movie-esque smooch. Tonight. Kenny smiled, tracing the smooth skin of his palm and recalling soft, impulsive kisses.


	6. Secret Dating

Mysterion watched from his undignified position on Kyley’s floor as the kid printed out phone records, having already stripped all the emails and text messages from the device three days ago. 

The vigilante was in the hoodie again, having traded out his now-probably-ruined cape for the sweater the moment he stepped inside and saw it hanging in the kitchen. It was easier to move around a house without a cloak, you know? And he kept the hood up, anyhow. 

Kyley was sprawled over the couch, handing Kenny pages that were out of his reach. By all means it was a lazy sort of day, more information gathering, with nothing major planned and no real stress on either of their backs. 

Except Kenny’s reality had kicked him in the teeth. He silently watched Kyley as he flipped back through the original folder he’d given Mysterion, brows furrowed. 

“Yeah, so the fuckboy is not directly related to any of them. But he is the son of someone influential in town, I’ve been checking the little fuck and his father, but nothing yet. Your end?” 

“Nothing,” Mysterion replied, eyes tracing the profile of his face. “Anything new from the phone?” 

“I had to keep it from being tracked, but I got everything off of it first,” Kyley clicked the power button on the printer without standing and shuffled through papers. “I don’t…I still don’t even remember how you got me this shit, did you say you left it for me?”

“I handed it to you,” Kenny said, fingers twisting together. “It’s fine if you don’t remember.” 

It wasn’t his fault. Kenny was used to the mantra by now. Wasn’t their fault. 

“That’s not the-” Kyley made an annoyed noise and laid back on the couch, papers covering his chest. 

Mysterion just watched him, one knee drawn up as he leaned back against the couch. 

There was no good way to walk up to someone and say ‘hey, I know you forgot but you faced a warehouse of killers in order to try and save my life, also you kissed me and we both really liked it so…wanna do that again? Now?’

He was oblivious to the dark figure blatantly staring, a furious flicker of fire but also a complete dumbass. 

Kenny wasn’t sure how to even go about this. He leaned back against the couch, hoodie cushioning the back of his head against Kyley’s legs. The boy didn’t even flinch, on his phone and probably looking up something important. 

It wasn’t his fault. Kenny closed his eyes, resting his head against his legs. He should let it go for now, they had a couple other things to worry about. The mafia was laying low but Kyley was trying to piece together more and Mysterion should be focused on taking people out. 

He looked back over at Kyley, who had his golden necklace in his mouth as he held his phone above his face. 

He’d kissed Mysterion, he’d stared at him like a dumbstruck fool and kissed him. This was frustrating to have to think about, because now he knew that he felt something not platonic towards him. And now he knew what he tasted like. Kind of hard to go back to not thinking about that once it happened. 

It was a secret he didn’t really want to keep. Like, a hidden romance was kind of alluring and meaningful, but not when it was hidden from the person who instigated the whole thing to begin with. That really didn’t leave any openings to be romantic. 

He did have pretty lips. And chin. And jaw. 

Fuck it, his whole face was handsome. 

Nice thighs, too. 

And ass. He had a nice booty, obvious even if he never seemed to wear tight-fitting pants. 

He was such an idiot. He offed himself too quick, he probably would have died anyway from the injuries but he wasn’t _sure_. If he’d waited just a second more, maybe Kyley would have remembered. He thought he was cool, looked at him like he’d hung the moon in place, and he clearly cared about him, how wasn’t so certain but now he might never have the opportunity to explore what Kyley had shown him in that brief, euphoric moment-

He shook himself. These were not thoughts for Mysterion, this was Kenny, and being a superhero meant you weren’t exactly required to work 9-to-5 but he was definitely on the clock, so to speak. 

More along Mysterion’s line would be Kyley’s foray into trouble. His shining moment to be a hero, even if unneeded. Kyley certainly hadn’t known that. He’d been ready to get hurt on his behalf without a second thought. 

Heroism. Kyley had a good amount of that, and now Kenny couldn’t even bring it up and prove it to him. 

But it was still there. 

Mysterion watched the boy with narrowed eyes. “Kyley,” He said, watching the boy immediately offer him his (albeit reluctant) attention. “Tell me about your mother.” 

Whatever the kid had been expecting him to say, that clearly wasn’t high up on the list. The redhead looked at Mysterion like he’d asked for a lock of hair. 

“What about her?” He asked, sounding much less abrasive than anticipated, though he jostled Kenny off his legs. “What’s that got to do with shit?” 

“Curiosity,” Mysterion replied, trying to get a plan drawn out in his mind. “How does a mother go from being a villain to a parent without a child knowing?”

That Kyley seemed to accept just fine, even allowing Kenny to rest against his legs again. 

“In hindsight, a lot made sense,” He said, hands folded on his torso as he stared up at nothing. “She was fucking crazy, about everything. We were micromanaged, and we couldn’t have a misstep without her freaking out. I get what she was trying to do, keep us off her path or whatever the shit but I didn’t care for it.” His fingers were twisting, like he was nervous, though Kenny noticed he played it off by cracking his knuckles. “Now seriously, why?” 

“ _Were_ you ever tempted to follow her?” Kenny asked, turned so that his cheek rested against name-brand sweatpants. 

Kyley narrowed his eyes at him. 

“You aren’t now, and I don’t personally give a shit about your past,” He read the hesitation in his face correctly as he was vindicated by a soft snort. “Answer honestly.” 

The redhead pressed his lips together, glaring back up at the ceiling. “Sure,” He said, “But only for irony’s sake. To make her angry.”

The fact he actually did answer honestly gave him a weird, fuzzy feeling. Mysterion tapped his fingers against his thigh, thinking. 

“But you didn’t,” He assumed he’d hear if Kyley had once been a villain, what with all the research he’d done online, but he wanted to hear him. 

“No.” The redhead shifted, dislodging the vigilante momentarily. “I didn’t.”

Kenny’s cheek brushed against soft fabric as he settled back down. Kyley took a long breath, saying nothing. He was uncomfortable, but Kenny needed one more push. 

“You’re not out here kicking ass because you’re some kind of rebel, are you?” He asked, watching the boy’s expression scrunch up. 

Kyley set his jaw, not sparing him a glance. “You know your voice changes when you try and get all touchy-feely with me, right?” 

He was literally resting his head on his legs. If Kyley thought that comment was going to alienate him, this boy had no fucking idea. But he did need to watch his tone a little more carefully. Or. 

Kenny gently brushed his hand over Kyley’s ankle, watching for a response. “Does it?” His voice was back to gravelly but with a new purr. He felt Kyley twitch like he was thinking about kicking him. 

He didn’t, and Kenny felt a rush of encouragement. He knew the kid liked him now, at least somewhat, and even if it was now a secret he might be able to gently coax another show of emotion from the guy. Enough to let him know that the tentative feelings were reciprocated. 

“You should know me well enough by now, sugar,” Kyley was doing a pretty good job of brushing the gesture off, speaking almost lazily as he addressed the original question. “Answer that yourself.” 

Kenny kept brushing gentle circles over his ankle, and Kyley didn’t kick him in the face. This next part was important, and he finally sat up entirely to speak to him directly. He didn't really do talk-it-out shit, but Kyley responded best to words and it- it was just something he could do for him. Just this once.

“I think you should say something publicly,” Mysterion told him, the seriousness settling back into his voice. “About who you are and what your intentions are. The speculation is just getting worse, Kyle, and you haven’t said a single word since you holed yourself up in here-”

“And say what?” Kyley sat up as well, necklace jangling back to sit at his collarbone. “Just waltz out the fucking door and say ‘hi, son of a fucking supervillain here, know Ma killed people and shit but I’m alright?’”

Mysterion shoved his legs aside and went to sit on the couch himself, so Kyley couldn’t look down at him anymore. “I read the article. That’s a good start.” 

“Who would believe that?” Kyley demanded, eyes snapping. “Words are kinda fucking empty when it comes to how crazy she went on this place.” 

Mysterion set his jaw. He shifted, pressing his knee against Kyley’s hip to keep him in place. He spoke before Kyley could cuss him out. 

“I did.” His voice was firm, unmoving. Kyley’s protests froze on his lips. “And do I have to remind you who I am?”

He pushed Kyley down, palm splayed over his chest, and the kid actually let him. He allowed him, giving Mysterion the kind of leeway that the vigilante constantly offered him. 

“You walked into that alleyway wanting a way and a reason to help people and I believed you,” He ran his gloved hand down his chest, feeling every dip and curve of his chest and stomach. “You offered your help and I took it, I’ve never worked with another hero in my entire career, but I work with _you._ ” 

Kyley was shivering, gaze burning as he allowed Mysterion to touch him, letting the vigilante slide his hand back up and trace his collarbone, twist his necklace between his fingers. 

“Do you think it’s some secret that you’re doing this because you want to make up for what she did?” He watched Kyley swallow, gloved fingers lovingly tracing his throat. “That’s not your responsibility, but if you’re determined to take it I’m going to return everything you’ve given me.” 

This was more raw than he ever let Mysterion be, but he couldn’t make himself regret it, not with Kyley breathing erratically underneath him and hanging onto every word. 

“You like me because I don’t do the publicity thing the others seem to go for,” Mysterion recalled one of his first conversations with him. “I’ve never given my opinion on anything, I’ve never spoken to anyone. I arrive, I fight, I’m gone. That’s how it’s always been.” 

Kyley’s hand was tracing his hip, thumb brushing over his hipbone. 

“If I thought it would help you, I’d be glad to say something on your behalf,” He told him. “But I’m controversial enough. I believe, entirely, that you can sway public opinion on your own.” 

“Right,” Kyley’s voice started out a little croaked, though he quickly recovered. “Who doesn’t look at an abrasive shithead and think ‘sure, I believe this one’?” 

“You’re definitely a shithead,” Mysterion agreed readily, smirking as he thought about a map of Middle-Earth and a room dedicated to heroism of the city. “But you’re also a dorky little nerd. One with passion, fire, a determination to take things into your own hands and make it _right_ again.” He brushed his hand through his hair, tilting his head. “I think they’d find you endearing. I do.” 

“Fuck,” Kyley blurted, ruining any romanticism in that moment. Or maybe not, because he was red faced and breathless and gripping him by the hips. 

One of his hands grabbed the front of the hoodie Mysterion was wearing and yanked him down, hand moving to the back of his head as he kissed him solidly. 

Mysterion was glowing on the inside. Apparently Kyley liked him enough that he didn’t want to keep it secret for long. He smiled against his lips, falling into a kiss that was much more enamored than the previous one. 

He was pressed up against him, here, with his tongue in his mouth and a hand gripping his waist. His own hands were buried in his hair, dragging against his scalp in loving brushes. 

Kyley breathed against his lips, gently massaging the nape of his neck. “Myst.”

He jolted, slightly, not just because of the odd nickname using his persona, but because for a split second he expected Kyley to use his real name. 

Exactly how far had he fallen for this boy?

Kyley’s lips were on his jaw, kissing over every inch of skin not covered by mask or uniform. Mysterion tilted his head, allowing it, closing his eyes and soaking it in. 

God, yes. He was melting, feeling the frustration and doubt of the past couple days finally fall away. Kyley cared about him, wanted him, redirecting fire _his_ direction and in good ways and he was lost for this kid entirely. 

He moved to kiss his forehead, a sweet gesture that seemed to startle Kyley for a second. 

“Let _me_ help _you_ ,” He murmured, warmth flowing through his body, coloring his voice. “You’re so lost in your own stupid head you don’t realize what you have.” Courage, a good moral compass, and a streak of heroism he wished he saw out on the streets more. He saw it in Kyley, eventually so would others. 

The boy said nothing, but his arms closed around Mysterion, a fierce and unrelenting embrace as he buried his face in his neck. Kenny hugged him back, resting his head on Kyley’s. 

When was the last time he relied on someone else? Mysterion’s hands ran up and down his sides soothingly. That question could apply to either of them. Somehow they found each other and became two walls of support, strong and unyielding against darker forces of the city. 

He was glad, for both their sakes, that they’d begrudgingly decided to trust each other. And moved onward from there. 

Secret out in the open, Mysterion continued kissing his boy.


	7. Presents

Mysterion didn’t usually let himself into Kyley’s house, he’d only done so once before just to see if he could. He did so again now, treading through the hall towards the loud music he was playing in the kitchen. 

He was expecting him, not for another hour or so but Mysterion disliked being too predictable. He slipped into the kitchen, nearly running into Kyley who dropped his bowl of popcorn onto the floor and braced himself for a fight. 

Mysterion smiled, and Kyley picked up a handful of scattered popcorn and threw it at him. 

“You trying to take years off my life, fuckface?” Kyley leaned back against the counter, dragging a hand over his face. “The door was unlocked!”

“How do you know I didn’t go through the door?” He pointed out, tilting his head almost playfully. 

“I was watching it, dick,” Kyley picked up the scattered snack, salvaging what was left in the bowl. “It’s not reassuring to know you can bypass my security.” 

“You’ll have to up it,” The vigilante taunted, not even moving as Kyley elbowed him on his way past. “It’ll impress me if you can keep me out.” 

“We’ll see, then,” Kyley said, setting the bowl on the coffee table. 

He was wearing jeans. The revelation burned into his mind as he openly stared, surprised it took him this long to notice. Not loose, either, but showing off his attractive features in a way that was kind of hard to take his eyes off of. 

He literally had the nicest ass in the city. Kenny wondered if he’d notice if he slipped his hands into his pockets if he got the opportunity. Or if he could even make himself do it in a mask. Depended on how this all went. 

Kyley threw a couch cushion at him, which he easily caught, looking exasperated. 

“You fucking done ogling me yet?” He asked, eyes glittering. “Get your wandering eyes over here, asshole.”

He huffed a soft laugh, stalking over. The kid wasn’t actually angry, he’d know if he was. Kyley even tilted his head up for a kiss when he was close enough, soft and brief and with both of them smiling. 

Mysterion gently brushed his cheek, choosing to stand while Kyley sat, turning on the television. 

“Was popcorn necessary?” The vigilante couldn’t help but tease. 

“I’m petty,” The kid retorted simply, and Mysterion thought he could understand that. 

Here they were. Kyley sat on the very edge of the couch, arms over knees, Kenny too nervous to sit down. He’d seen a couple things on social media but needed to know, needed to see it in real life. 

“And a family finally finds relief in justice as a small ring of organized criminal was apprehended today,” The female anchor was saying, hair immaculate and arms resting on the table, “A slew of bank account records, emails, and recorded phone calls led to the exposure of the District Attorney as one of the instigators in the case that ended up with 22-year-old Tricia Tucker’s death at the hands of the mob.” 

The woman went on about what happened, but Kenny didn’t want to hear it again. He’d heard it enough. Kyley was watching intently, brows furrowed seriously.

“Did you know she was dating my sister?” Kenny found himself sharing, offering that little bit of information. 

Kyley did a full body turn at that, shock written all over his face. Of course he wouldn’t have known that, but Mysterion was offering something, not actually asking. 

“No!” He said, hands steadied on the couch as if the information might knock him down. “Oh my god. How is she?” 

“Not well,” Kenny admitted. “She lives out of the city now, by her friends. Taking a break from school.” 

“Fuck.” Kyley was watching him, green eyes analytical. “So you were personally involved,” He said quietly, a gentle edge to his voice. 

“I knew her,” Mysterion said, voice softening as much. “I really liked her—and I wouldn’t think I’d like anyone who dated my little sister.” 

Kyley said nothing, just watched. Kenny returned his attention to the screen. 

“-Documents showed up only with a green question mark attached, the insignia surrounding the city’s most controversial hero, Mysterion.”

“Most controversial,” Kyley grumbled. “I don’t know where they get this shit.” 

“I don’t know why you didn’t attach your own name to them,” Mysterion griped back. “You had an opportunity.”

“The city doesn’t know if it can trust me,” Kyley replied, as if It were obvious. “I didn’t want to give them anything they might have reason to suspect.” 

“And you think they trust me?” The vigilante asked incredulously, but Kyley merely gestured towards the television. 

“No fucking shit,” He waggled his fingers towards the screen. “They took down the DA.” 

“I would have taken ages to connect him to the group,” The cloaked man muttered. “If I managed at all.” 

“I’ll take enough satisfaction in knowing you admitted it,” Kyley snarked, though a soft smile curved his lips. “Who knows if the charges will stick, though.” 

“We’ll make sure it does,” Mysterion had to look away when they showed Ruby’s picture again and a moment of silence. He wondered how her family was feeling. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. 

Both were quiet as they went to commercial. Mysterion had a sense of grim satisfaction. He got them back, at least. He’d head out to his sister’s girlfriend’s grave later and apologize for taking so long. 

And he had to call Karen. 

“By the way,” Kyley said, voice definitely more subdued than usual. “I submitted the article.” 

It took him a second to realize what he meant, but Kenny’s heart jumped once he figured it out. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yep.” Kyley had his necklace in his teeth, probably ruining the gold. “We’ll see how that goes.” 

Mysterion exhaled. “Good.” Then maybe he could stop locking himself away. Reach back out to his family, the friend he said he used to talk to all the time. 

Because to be honest, he was never sure if one of these deaths were going to someday stick. He’d always been terrified of leaving Karen alone, and somewhere along the way he grew afraid of leaving Kyley, too. 

The boy suddenly stood, and Mysterion stepped back to give him room to walk around, but the boy tapped him and gestured down the hall. 

“I have something for you, actually.” He said, and gave no more explanation than that before heading down the hall. 

Kenny wasn’t missing this. 

He followed, thinking for a bizarre moment that he was heading to the hero room before he opened the door to the library, walking into the soft yellow lighting. 

“Are we headed to Mordor, O Elven King?” He couldn’t help but snark when Kyley said nothing, stepping behind him. The boy just stood to the side, leaning against a heavy wooden table. 

Hanging on one of the bookshelves was a uniform. Mysterion’s uniform, clearly, but far different from the one he was wearing. 

The torso was reinforced. The vigilante stepped forwards, tracing an embossed ‘M’ in the middle. It was heavier, unlike his cloth uniform this one could actually withstand thinner knives without a problem, deep, desaturated purple and with a belt far nicer that the one-pocket one he was wearing. 

The cape was heavier, slicker and less absorbent. The hood had a nice cut to it, intimidating and meant to fall over the face without getting in his eyes. He had a pair of gloves, too, leather it looked like, and with small green question marks on the inside wrists. 

This was a uniform for something terrifying. Something that you’d piss your pants to see whether in the dead of night or broad daylight. 

Mysterion looked back at Kyley, who was smirking back with a tight jaw. So he was unsure, was he? 

“Hmm.” The kid’s expression went deadpan when he realized the vigilante was fucking with him. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

“I’m trying to tell you that your uniform sucks,” Kyley retorted, confidence restored. “You look like a child playing in his pajamas and it’s just as protective. This is far better shit.” 

“And what, you think you eyeballed the perfect fit?” Kenny couldn’t help but prod, though he kept smoothing his hands over the material. This cloak was badass. 

“Most of it is adjustable,” Kyley rolled his eyes. “I’m not fucking stupid. It’s why you don’t have boots yet. Plus we can tailor it-”

Yep, he was switching out the cloak right fucking now. Kyley snorted as he threw the black fabric around his shoulders, taking two tries to compensate for the heavier material. Still light, but definitely not the barely-there cape he had currently. 

He was smiling. He was and he knew it, and he didn’t mind because Kyley’s own smile was damn near luminous. 

The vigilante stalked towards him, new cloak flowing as he walked in a more elegant, billowing way. He stopped nearly toe-to-toe with him, eyes half-lidded under the mask. 

Kyley looked up at him, still leaning comfortably on the table. 

“I think it works,” The redhead said approvingly, adjusting the hood. 

The care felt fuzzy, but he still had one question to ask. “Why?” 

Kyley shrugged, that tight look coming back to his face as he tried to act like something wasn’t nagging at him. Mysterion waited. 

“I don’t know how much you’re going to want me to help,” He said easily, pulling the edges of the cape over Kenny’s shoulders. “Or how much I’m going to be able to. But I want you to be safe as possible. There’s something…”

The kid hesitated, but Kenny didn’t push. He waited, patiently, and allowed Kyley time to think about what he wanted to say. 

“You don’t tell me much,” He said carefully, looking the hero in the eyes. “There’s a fuckton I don’t know about you, and a lot of it I probably don’t have the right to know. You’re…increasingly hard to read, you know that?” 

He smiled, slightly, voice quiet. “Really?”

“And I get that this is the persona or whatever the fuck you call yourself,” Kyley was looking away now, playing with the necklace again. “But it’s…It’s stupid, but I want you to know that I care about the person under the mask, too. I want you to stay safe.”

Kenny melted. He reached, pulling Kyley in for a rather tight hug. He pressed his face against overly-styled curls and breathed in shitty hair products and held him in his arms. 

This asshole. He nuzzled his cheek against his hair, likely messing up his curls and not giving a single shit. 

“You’re right,” He told the boy warmly. “It is stupid to care about me.” 

Kyley made a frustrated noise and shoved him, making Mysterion chuckle as he let him push him away. His heart was soaring. 

“This actually ties in with what I got you,” Kenny’s grin was lopsided as he tried to suppress it. “But it’s in the other room.” 

“So that’s why you-!” Kyley cut himself off with a frustrated noise and looked back across the hall. Kenny gave him a little nudge. 

He was on Kyley’s heels as he opened the door, but remained in the hallway to watch. 

Setting against the wall, under Mysterion’s portrait, was a painting facing away from the two, just the back visible. Kyley turned around, already questioning, but Mysterion shook his head. 

The kid pressed his lips together and walked over to it, turning the painting around and freezing. 

Mysterion hoped he liked it. It was certainly one of the most enjoyable pieces he’d ever done. Smears of faded grey were all the background was, it looked like rain if you took a step back, the subject dressed in black and white. The color laid with auburn curls in obvious swirls and a shadowed face with a strong jaw and a knowing smirk, a sparkling chain around his neck. 

Kyley was putting the pieces together, slowly, perhaps realizing that the same artist drew all of these paintings, or perhaps noticing that the signature in the corner didn’t read ‘Kenneth’ this time, but ‘Kenny’. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d want to know,” Mysterion admitted, watching the kid stare at the painting with parted lips. “I was going to give you the choice. Learn who I was or let you continue just knowing Mysterion.” 

He couldn’t be sure, after all, that Kyley wasn’t just enamored with having a superhero friend/partner/something. He hadn’t been able to guess if Kyley would want to know or not. But the look he got over the top of the painting said multitudes, even if Kyle Broflovski himself seemed, for once, rendered speechless. 

He looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky, awed and affectionate and just a bit annoyed at him. 

“The fuck- Of course I’d want to know,” He said, as if that were the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. “Of…of _course_ I would.” 

Kenny let go of a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. 

“And of course I’m going to want your help again,” He said, gravel starting to drop from his voice. “You’ve become a part of this persona. I want your help.” Those documents had been signed with his mark, but Kyley had been the brain behind it. In the end, he was the one with the proof, saving Mysterion from having to kick in someone’s kneecaps and rack up more controversy.

One day he’d sit him down and explain all of this. Exactly how much he mattered in this. 

Kenny’s heart felt lighter than it had in ages. Every link in this chain of events had brought them closer together, almost painfully so, and he hadn’t been looking forward to severing the tie. 

It looked like he wouldn’t have to. 

Kyley was slowly setting down the painting, already done staring at it, watching Kenny like he was the next new work of art. 

He stepped closer, and Mysterion didn’t move, guessing what he wanted and being perfectly okay with that. 

He smiled as Kyley stood within an arm’s length away. The redhead reached up, gently pushing back his hood like he were made of glass. 

He touched his cheek briefly, almost checking, watching his smile broaden before he reached up, untying the mask and pulling the cloth from his head. Blond locks were illuminated by the library room’s soft light behind them, bright blue eyes unhindered in his exposed face. 

Kyley drank him in, brows furrowing as he memorized every inch of his face, every freckle and hair as he brushed through blond locks. 

“You said your name was Kenny?” Kyley said, voice low with his question, and Kenny barely had time to nod before Kyley’s arms were around him and their lips pressed together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to Madi for putting this week together. You're a treasure.


End file.
